


EmiMike tumblr drabbles

by classicpleistocene



Series: Yuri on ice drabbles [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Cultural Differences, Established Relationship, M/M, mostly useless fluff, rated for Michele's language but really if you're fine with swearing just read it, these are all really self indulgent guys please forgive me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2017-07-20
Packaged: 2018-12-04 16:18:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11558874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/classicpleistocene/pseuds/classicpleistocene
Summary: Just my collection of tumblr drabbles with prompts sent by my mutuals and followers.Subscribe to be notified when I add more :)Or come find me on tumblr, I'maftgonicethere.





	1. That's not tea

**Author's Note:**

> Just my collection of tumblr drabbles with prompts sent by my mutuals and followers.
> 
> Subscribe to be notified when I add more :)
> 
> Or come find me on tumblr, I'm [aftgonice](https://aftgonice.tumblr.com/) there.

“Mickey! Do you want tea?” Emil’s voice came from the kitchen.

Michele was wrapped in a blanket on the couch but it seemed that nothing could warm him.

“Yeah,” he said back.

“Peppermint?”

_Not this argument again._  “How many times do I have to tell you that’s  _not_ tea!”

Emil appeared at the door holding a tray with two steaming mugs and a selection of  _teas._  Michele hated that he couldn’t use different words for them when he was thinking and speaking in English.

“I forgot what you call it.”

“ _Tisana,_  Emil, anything that doesn’t have actual tea leaves in it is called a  _tisana._ ”

Emil placed the tray on the coffee table in front of him and bent down to kiss the top of Michele’s head. “Well, as long as it will warm you – what kind of tea or  _tisana_ do you want?”

“…peppermint is fine.”


	2. Michele and Emil watch Eurovision

“ _Dai cazzo, San Marino non può tradirci!_ ” **  
**

Michele had switched to Italian ten minutes ago, probably without even realizing, as the voting countries started being given out, but Emil didn’t mind. He loved seeing his boyfriend so passionate about something for once. Well, something other than skating. He suspected it wasn’t even about Italy’s song or its singer, but more of a weird national pride matter. He had witnessed it in other occasions too, and he suspected it was a very Italian thing, since he had seen Sara do the same: the twins loved to complain about their country, but when it came to certain things, like Italian food or this Eurovision thing, they acted like the most patriotic people. It was funny to watch the change in Michele’s behavior.

His thoughts were interrupted when the San Marino spokesperson gave twelve points…not to Italy. “ _MA VAFFANCULO!!! SAN MARINO_ CAP ‘E CAZZ’ _, MA CHI VI CREDETE DI ESSERE!  VI INVADIAMO!_ ” Michele’s shouts were louder than Emil had heard in years now. They could only be compared to his angry comments back when Michele was still obsessing over Sara’s dating life.

“Hey, Mickey, calm down!” Emil ran a hand down Michele’s back in an attempt to soothe him, knowing perfectly well his boyfriend needed to let his anger out.

Michele seemed to respond to his touch though, and said, switching back to English, “They’re fucking assholes, Emil. They’re basically Italians. They owed us those fucking points!”

Emil offered to make him a chamomile tea and Michele only waved him off as if he couldn’t care less what he did, so Emil went to the kitchen and prepared it. He came back just in time to see the Czech spokesperson give Czech Republic’s points to a country Emil didn’t catch, but, again, wasn’t Italy. Emil groaned and sat beside Michele on the couch again, folding his legs under himself and setting the mug on the coffee table. By now Michele didn’t even seem angry anymore, just deflated and sad. Emil said, “There’s still the televotes, it’s not over yet.”

They had both voted for Italy, thanks to their Czech cellphone numbers, and Emil had to admit that he would have voted for that song regardless of his boyfriend’s nationality or preferences. It was catchy and the lyrics (only some of which he understood without translation, thanks to him slowly learning the language) were just about as deep as they could get in such a public and commercial contest. He also loved the dancing ape and the pure fact that it was one of the few songs that weren’t in English, unlike most of them. So much for diversity.

Sadly for both of them, even the televotes didn’t help Gabbani’s song win or even get among the top five. By that time they were both too tired to do much besides complain to each other and scroll through a few memes on Twitter.

“It’s just not fair, you know? It’s like these events don’t even take quality into consideration.”

“It’s not like ice skating, Mickey. There you get a fairly objective score, but here? Who knows what’s at play really.” He got up and tried to get Michele to do the same. When he tried to ignore him, he tried pulling on his arm gently and said, “Come on, we should sleep. Don’t you have San Marino to invade?”

That finally got a laugh out of Michele, who got on his feet and on his toes to kiss Emil quickly. “Fine, but you’re coming with me.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> • “Dai cazzo, San Marino non può tradirci!” = “Fuck, come on! San Marino can’t betray us!”  
> • “MA VAFFANCULO!!! SAN MARINO CAP ‘E CAZZ’*, MA CHI VI CREDETE DI ESSERE! VI INVADIAMO!” = “FUCK YOU! SAN MARINO YOU PIECE OF SHIT, WHO DO YOU EVEN THINK YOU ARE! WE’RE GONNA INVADE YOU!”
> 
> *this bit is Neapolitan dialect, not Italian!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading and if you enjoyed it let me know with a kudos or a comment :)


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